


Slipping Through My Fingers

by MatteaAM



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, author purging emotions through characters, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 11:29:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11508513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatteaAM/pseuds/MatteaAM
Summary: Bitty wonders if he let his chance with Jack slip through his fingers - and tries to deal with the consequences.





	Slipping Through My Fingers

**Author's Note:**

> First ever fic in this fandom - and first fic in about three years. Eek!

As he walked back to the Haus, Bitty could feel his heart beating out of his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. It was fine, he was going to be fine. It’s going to take some time, but he  _will_ get over this.

Bitty climbed up the stairs, glanced towards his room, where all of his things were packed, and walked into the room across the hall. Some of Chowder’s stuff was haphazardly thrown around and Bitty sighed fondly. He approached the bed and started folding the shirts.

He will be fine.

Except, then it hits him all at once – this was it, he wasn’t going to see Jack again. Yes, he said they’ll keep in touch, but really – Jack was going to be a professional hockey player. He won’t have the time to message Bitty. Not nearly as often as Bitty would like him to. And that would just hurt more, so maybe… _maybe_ it was for the best if they cut it off and he allowed himself to move on. To _try_ and move on.

While all the reasonable explanations made sense, Bitty could still feel the pressure building behind his eyes; he could feel his heart beating wildly. He took a deep, shuddering breath in a vain attempt to make himself calm down. The shuttle to the airport will be here any minute and he absolutely could not allow himself to break down now; no one needed to see how blotchy and red his face got when he cried.

_No, Eric, no no no, you need to calm down._

Bitty walked into the adjoining bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror.

“You are fine,” he said out loud. “You will get over this; you’ve gotten over worse things.”

He kept staring at his face for a few more minutes, willing the tears to go away while muttering words of encouragement. He gripped the edge of the sink with one hand and used the other one to smack against the counter a couple of times, to let out his frustrations (that he’d much rather scream out), before squeezing his eyes and taking one more deep breath.

Two hours later found Bitty sitting in the window seat of the plane that was about to take him home to Georgia for the summer. He just messaged his parents to let them know he made it into the plane when a ping from his phone signalled a new message.

_Have a safe flight, Bittle. Eat more protein over the summer._

And just like that, his carefully worked on façade crumbled in less than a second. He clutched at his phone and stared intently out of the window. All he had to do was make it home, and then he can cry himself to sleep in his childhood bed tonight. Nothing like a good release of emotions to make him feel better. He hoped.

_Thanks, Jack! Hope you have fun with your parents. Don’t forget to relax before the season starts! :)_

He quickly put his phone on flight mode and forced himself to relax and  _not_ go through all the messages he and Jack had exchanged recently.

Thing was, Bitty knew he wouldn’t feel half as bad as he did at that moment if only Jack didn’t send so many confusing signals Bitty’s way. Bitty’s had crushes before, and he got over them fine. It was the furtive glances and the lingering touches and half-flirty texts that kept twisting his gut, making him wonder if he should have been braver and more open about his feelings. If he should have made the first step.

They were making him wonder if he let this chance slip through his fingers.

Over the next few days, however, Bitty’s frustration only grew stronger. He hadn’t had a chance to have a good cry yet – every time the emotions hit him particularly hard, the place wasn’t right, and by the time he went to bed each night, he was too exhausted to do anything but close his eyes and sleep.

The text message Jack never responded to certainly did nothing to help. In fact, it felt like it was burning a hole through Bitty’s phone, and every time it signalled an incoming text, Bitty’s heart fluttered. He needed to stop getting his hopes up.

A week after he got home, Bitty decided to have a conversation with himself. He felt himself slipping into the state of mild depression he did not like – he was constantly tired, had a hard time getting out of bed, and everywhere he looked, something reminded him of Jack. Bitty knew that it was only a matter of time before his parents set him down for a serious conversation – he was well aware his happy-go-lucky persona was cracking more and more each day. He wished he had someone he could talk to about how he was feeling, but no one knew about his silly crush.

A silly crush that no longer felt silly. Or like a crush.

“Feelings suck, and I am done with them,” he said out loud, staring at his reflection in the mirror. “I will not let some boy make me feel this way.”

Except, this was not  _some_ boy. This was Jack, who Bitty genuinely liked as a person, and more than anything wanted to keep as a friend. Jack, who has not replied to his message in a week.

So Bitty looked at himself in the mirror again, took a deep breath, and decided that clearly all those glances, and touches, and texts were just a product of his overactive imagination. So he was going to leave them there, in his imagination, and he will move past this hurdle, and it will make him a stronger man. And hopefully it will teach him to be more forthcoming with his emotions, because not knowing definitely hurt more than knowing.

He, Eric Bittle, would get over this. He would be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to purge some emotions. I might go back to this and give these boys a happy ending I didn’t give myself. Or maybe I won’t. Life sucks sometimes.
> 
> Link to original post: [here.](http://travellingcatlady.tumblr.com/post/162979129588/slipping-through-my-fingers)


End file.
